Neuroses
I think I'm neurotic.
Only mildly, mind you. But every now and then I catch myself thinking particularly OCD thoughts and I have to take a step back and examine myself.
For example: tomorrow I'm going to see a play, Judy: the Musical. I'm driving three of my friends there, and as I was going about my day (by which I mean sitting around at work staring at the wall), I realized that means these friends will be in my car. My thought process went a little like this.
Hey, there are gonna be people in my car tomorrow! It's a mess! I need to clean out the seats...heck, I should clean the car. Is there a car wash I can get to before my next lesson? No. Well, I could still vacuum it when I get home. Or I can sit here and hand pick up every speck of everything that doesn't belong. I need to take out the trash. I really should dust it. No, overkill. No one cares, right? But they're gonna be in my car! This is an impression of me! I should clean it. No, I'll just take out my school stuff. No, I need it. I'll organize it. Okay, trash is out. Wait! What about the music? Do I play the radio? Most people hate country. Ipod. But my ipod is schizophrenic, there's no knowing what will come on. I should make a playlist. What! For driving to the theatre? It's like 2 minutes! Stupid idea. But what if something dumb plays? I want people to enjoy the music. Oh crud, more papers, I need to clean this out. It's too dark to vacuum. Maybe I'll get up and do it before I leave home at 7 am...
HOLD IT. Neuroses. I have them. Obviously.
Why do I think so much about silly details like this? Do I really think my friends will judge me because my car isn't spotless, or because I haven't created an ipod playlist catered specifically to their whims? (Why did that last thought even cross my mind?!? Really??)
I should probably take the cat out of the car, though. This is what I saw as I was checking the backseat to make sure it was clean enough. Sorry it's blurry, I was startled.
Another example: I am now blogging sans internet-inspired topics, meaning I have to actually come up with my own ideas. I've recently gotten a couple of compliments on my writing that made me all warm and fuzzy and giddy and inspired me to keep blogging. However, now I feel this [neurotic] sense of pressure that everything I write has to be better than the last, that somehow this blog is a repository for all my bits of literary genius. What?!
So. I thought I remembered one of my favorite blogs posting something similar to the above paragraph, so I went to go search for it. To my delight, she'd posted a new blog! I started to read it. I got so engrossed that at the end, I totally forgot why I'd come there or what I was writing about on my own blog. You should go read it. Hyperbole and a Half is astonishingly funny. If you've never read her before, though, you should read this and this first. It will make more sense, and you will likely laugh a lot more.
Where was I? Oh yes. Sorry, I went back again to search for what I was originally searching for, found it, and decided I really don't want to relate myself to her that much, as the post involves her getting totally sloshed and then trying to improve her blogging. Not my goal.
All this to say, I don't understand why I go through the thought processes I do, and I'm feeling a little insecure about breaking back into the 'real' blogging world. It was easy with adventures in Germany and with the challenge, but now...
I may not be off to the greatest start. Accept me and my insecurities (and my far-reaching flights of fancy) and please read at least one more post after this, K? Hopefully my train of thought won't be quite so completely derailed next time. But you know those neuroses...
Only mildly, mind you. But every now and then I catch myself thinking particularly OCD thoughts and I have to take a step back and examine myself.
For example: tomorrow I'm going to see a play, Judy: the Musical. I'm driving three of my friends there, and as I was going about my day (by which I mean sitting around at work staring at the wall), I realized that means these friends will be in my car. My thought process went a little like this.
Hey, there are gonna be people in my car tomorrow! It's a mess! I need to clean out the seats...heck, I should clean the car. Is there a car wash I can get to before my next lesson? No. Well, I could still vacuum it when I get home. Or I can sit here and hand pick up every speck of everything that doesn't belong. I need to take out the trash. I really should dust it. No, overkill. No one cares, right? But they're gonna be in my car! This is an impression of me! I should clean it. No, I'll just take out my school stuff. No, I need it. I'll organize it. Okay, trash is out. Wait! What about the music? Do I play the radio? Most people hate country. Ipod. But my ipod is schizophrenic, there's no knowing what will come on. I should make a playlist. What! For driving to the theatre? It's like 2 minutes! Stupid idea. But what if something dumb plays? I want people to enjoy the music. Oh crud, more papers, I need to clean this out. It's too dark to vacuum. Maybe I'll get up and do it before I leave home at 7 am...
HOLD IT. Neuroses. I have them. Obviously.
Why do I think so much about silly details like this? Do I really think my friends will judge me because my car isn't spotless, or because I haven't created an ipod playlist catered specifically to their whims? (Why did that last thought even cross my mind?!? Really??)
I should probably take the cat out of the car, though. This is what I saw as I was checking the backseat to make sure it was clean enough. Sorry it's blurry, I was startled.
Another example: I am now blogging sans internet-inspired topics, meaning I have to actually come up with my own ideas. I've recently gotten a couple of compliments on my writing that made me all warm and fuzzy and giddy and inspired me to keep blogging. However, now I feel this [neurotic] sense of pressure that everything I write has to be better than the last, that somehow this blog is a repository for all my bits of literary genius. What?!
So. I thought I remembered one of my favorite blogs posting something similar to the above paragraph, so I went to go search for it. To my delight, she'd posted a new blog! I started to read it. I got so engrossed that at the end, I totally forgot why I'd come there or what I was writing about on my own blog. You should go read it. Hyperbole and a Half is astonishingly funny. If you've never read her before, though, you should read this and this first. It will make more sense, and you will likely laugh a lot more.
Where was I? Oh yes. Sorry, I went back again to search for what I was originally searching for, found it, and decided I really don't want to relate myself to her that much, as the post involves her getting totally sloshed and then trying to improve her blogging. Not my goal.
All this to say, I don't understand why I go through the thought processes I do, and I'm feeling a little insecure about breaking back into the 'real' blogging world. It was easy with adventures in Germany and with the challenge, but now...
I may not be off to the greatest start. Accept me and my insecurities (and my far-reaching flights of fancy) and please read at least one more post after this, K? Hopefully my train of thought won't be quite so completely derailed next time. But you know those neuroses...
Ha I love your thought process about cleaning your car :P
ReplyDeleteI think all creators go through that thought process where they don't think their creation is up to snuff and they obviously can't share it because it's not perfect yet. It's not as good as the last one. What is they let their fans down? It's part of the creative process, I think. I know I go through that all the time. The conclusion I've come to is just to post anyway. The point is that you're creating. They're not all going to be ringers, but people will stick with you through the almost-as-good-but-not-quite stuff just so they can be there when you pull out that perfect piece. Heck, I bet they'll love it all anyway and won't even really notice the difference.
ReplyDelete